


It Was You

by puppyfacedbrokenboys



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Late Night Conversations, M/M, Mentions of Death, descriptions of the afterlife
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-04
Updated: 2015-03-04
Packaged: 2018-03-16 06:41:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3478229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/puppyfacedbrokenboys/pseuds/puppyfacedbrokenboys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where Jackson asks Aiden what it felt like when he died and turns into a major realization between the two of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Was You

It was dark. Quiet.

Aiden was face down on the bed, face smashed into the pillow; his arm curled around a warm, shirtless body. He was starting the descent into sleep when he heard a voice next to his ear.

“Aid?”

Aiden pressed himself harder into the pillow, arm tightening its grip. The body was tense. He sighed and took in a breath, then said a soft “Yeah?” He tilted his head towards the voice; his heightened vision taking in the blue eyes of none other than Jackson Whittemore.

There was worry and fear in those eyes, and one inhale told Aiden that his boyfriend was troubled over something, and that alone made him not bite the other’s head off for keeping him awake when all he wanted to do was sleep. He was used to this, waking up like this in the middle of the night. Ethan had done it for years. It almost felt good to feel needed like this.

And it was that ingrained, second nature reaction that had him pressing up on his arm to see Jackson better. “What’s wrong?” The arm still around Jackson gripped his side lightly, thumb rubbing circles on his bare hip. “Nightmares?”

Jackson nodded, his bottom lip disappearing in his mouth as he bit at it. They’d been together long enough for Aiden to catch the slight furrow of the other’s brow as he tried to form what he wanted to say.

“You want to… talk about it?” Aiden questioned softly. The talking part of their relationship was still new, the duo often being able to just read other other like a book reduced their need to communicate verbally. But sometimes, like tonight, they needed to talk. They needed to get things off their chest, their mind. Ensure that the other was there, not my scent and touch alone.

Jackson’s eyes flitted over Aiden’s face, mulling the question over. Aiden could tell the other just wanted to let it go and tell him to go back to sleep and it was nothing. But Aiden knew, could feel the spike of his heartbeat, and knew it was more than nothing.

But he would wait. He continued rubbing circles on Jackson’s hip; eyes locked on his face.

And finally, Jackson asked the one thing Aiden wasn’t prepared for.

“What did it feel like… when you died?” His voice was so soft, so drastically different than the usual sharp tone Jackson had that it doubly threw Aiden for a loop.

He had been so careful not the think about it, but of course it always managed to creep into his head at the worst times. But here was his boyfriend, asking him to tell him. His boyfriend whom had had a death experience of his own. He was safe here. And really, it would be nice to let it out and tell someone. And he couldn’t tell Ethan, no matter how much he tried.

One more look into Jackson’s eyes and he was talking, telling Jackson everything.

Dark images flashed behind his eyes so fast that Aiden had to shut them. The pain, so much pain, and then none at all. Numb, gray. The fuzzy sound of Ethan’s tears. Hovering in a daze as he watched Ethan lay his lifeless body down and sobbed over it. The last splitting tear in his chest as he was sucked up in darkness, far, far, so far away from where he wanted to be.

Then the slideshow of colors and images started, a lifetime of memories all boiled down to snapshots. And then he was shot from the tunnel of darkness into a room full of kaleidoscopic colors; full of pictures on stained glass of all the people he had made a connection with.

Ethan was the biggest, next to his Alpha pack members. There was Danny and Lydia and Scott and Derek surrounding Ethan on the other side. And then his other pack members, and all of his victims on the other, Erica and Boyd and his first Alpha, all gray and glass cracked; so out of place with all the others.

He averted his eyes from those, and his gaze was drawn to another picture. This one was faded, almost blank at first glance. It was slightly bigger than Ethan’s, and a little higher. Aiden stepped forward, curious as to whom it was. It was a picture, of course, and all he could make out was blue eyes before he was sucked away again, thrown into a room full of blinding white, where he waited, waited, waited.

“I was stuck there. In that room of white. So silent and bright I thought I’d die there – until I remembered I already was. I had to be.” Aiden let out a soft, humorless laugh, the sound bouncing off the walls making it even louder and ominous.

Jackson mulled over all of his words. Took them all in as fast as Aiden poured them out. At some point his own hand had found its way to Aiden’s side where he squeezed; comforting, anchoring, keeping Aiden here with him.

“Then what happened?” Jackson’s voice was a murmur, softly pressing to hear more of the story.

“Then she just appeared,” Aiden said, a thread of awe wrapped around his words. “Like an actual angel, dressed in white. I wouldn’t have known it was her if it wasn’t for the hair.”

Aiden paused to gauge Jackson’s expression, and was presented with a tiny smile. “Lydia,” they both said in unison. Jackson already knew the gist of this part, but not the full story.

“Yeah, of course. Angel of Death herself, or the only version that matters,” Aiden joked lightly, his body sagging as he rested his head back down on the pillow. “I don’t know if it was actually her or not, but I’d like to believe it was. Even though she doesn’t remember anything.” Aiden paused again to take Jackson’s hand in his, threading their fingers together. “But an argument happened; her telling me it was time to go back and everyone was waiting for me, and me refusing because why would anyone want me? They were all better off with me dead.” Aiden’s thumb caressed the back of Jackson’s hand.

“How’d she manage to convince you?” Jackson sounded like he couldn’t breath, and Aiden’s hand squeezed his.

It took Aiden a moment to find the right words to say. This was the part of the story he thought about the most, plaguing him night and day when he first woke up – puzzled him. And it would be the most important to Jackson.

“It took a while, but finally she just sighed, tossed her hair, took my hand and led me into that room with all the photos. Immediately I was drawn to that blank photo… the one with the blue eyes that I couldn’t see. And it had become lighter – no, brighter – clearer… like a fog was being pulled away. And she said, ‘He needs you.’ And I didn’t know who she was talking about, but something made me say ‘Okay,’ and I was tumbling through darkness in a whirl and then I was wrapped in fuzzy colors until I was slammed back into my body. And that hit like a bitch.”

Jackson laughed softly at the comment, nodding in agreement, and Aiden knew that he must have felt that too when it had been him.

“And then I was back, and breathing, and wondering who the fuck you were and why you were hovering over me… but now I think I do,” Aiden said slowly, as realization fell over him. The photo, the blue eyes. Aiden looked back at Jackson and it was the same blue eyes. The same eyes that had been haunting him in one way or another for the past year. “It was you,” he announced softly.

Jackson sat up a little, face contorting in confusion. “What was me?”

“You. The blue eyes. The blank photo in the room,” Aiden clarified, surprised.

“Me?”

“Yeah…” Aiden sat up, hands rubbing at his eyes at Jackson rose with him, shoulder brushing his as he moved to curl his legs under him, waiting. It took a few seconds but then it clicked. “You. You’re my… ‘He needs you,’ she said. It wasn’t my time because I hadn’t met you.”

“You’re my mate,” Jackson said suddenly, in his own surprised tone, but it was firm; sure. “I had the same thing… well not really. It’s a blur but the gist is the same, from what I remember. But now it’s… clear? How?”

When Aiden looked back at Jackson, he was right there looking at him. Their eyes mirrored each other, filling with tears as they let the reality and rightness settle over them. Aiden surged forward and kissed Jackson; Jackson immediately melting into him as they fell sideways onto the bed, grinning into the kiss.

Neither knew how or why they were meant to be, but all that matters was that they were.

 


End file.
